


Where My Demons Hide

by FennecFox



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:46:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FennecFox/pseuds/FennecFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>10 years after high school Stiles Stilinski comes back to Beacon Hills as a now successful and rich company owner to take care of his dad who develops stage 3 liver cancer. After a brutal mauling by a "family of wolves" he doesn't remember what happened back in high school, things start to become complicated when Derek Hale becomes his personal mechanic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There may be more then 5 chapters but at the moment I don't know how many there will be, I will change in accordingly 
> 
> (I'm also going to note later on their will be some NSFW stuff)

Stiles stood in his new gravel drive way facing the forest surrounding his oversized house. It had been 10 years since he stepped foot in Beacon Hills, but when papa Stilinski had been diagnosed with stage 3 liver cancer, he decided his Fortune 500 company back on the other coast could survive with him working from home. The movers had come and gone, setting up the house to his precise specifications, only breaking one painting in the shift back to California—he didn’t care much as long as his babies were ok. Stiles made his way around the building to where they rested in the five car garage.

Of course he kept his first car, the Jeep, which sat stoically behind the first large pine door. He and she had history together, and Stiles could never bring himself to sell the old beauty. Next to the Jeep was his first purchase when his business took off, the black ’67 Impala completely restored in all her beauty. Then came the light blue ’57 Chevrolet Bel Air, the bright yellow Lotus 7, and last but not least was what he called his “douchebag rich boy car” the midnight black 458 Ferrari Spider convertible with white leather interior, 0-60 in 3 seconds flat. After a full twenty minutes of staring at his babies he hopped in the Bel Air, roared the engine and took off towards his childhood home.

Passing though his old town, the local animal clinic, the former McCall residence, he couldn’t help but have painful flashbacks and when he finally came upon Beacon Hills High School it nearly sent him into a full blown panic attack. Flashes of red eyes played in his head as he slammed on the gas and nearly hydroplaned on the constantly damp mountain road. Stiles didn’t remember much about what happened back in those days after he had woken up in the intensive care unit at the local ER—he was told he had been mauled by a family of wolves deep in the woods behind his house. His memory of the past year had been wiped clean. Soon after, his best friend Scott McCall suddenly disappeared along with five others of his graduating class and what he thought was the love of his life, Derek Hale. He thought he could handle the old place, but from the migraine raging in his head it wasn’t looking good.

Stiles arrived soon after, the old place hadn't changed much since he last saw it save for a few overgrown bushes considering his Dad wasn't capable of doing the lawn work for the last couple of months, he would get someone out here asap to take care of it. When he knocked on the door he was surprised to find his father answering it instead of the nurse he hired as soon as his illness came to light. Exchanging greetings and hugs Stiles tried not to make to much of a fuss over him sending the nurse home every day and just enjoy his company but the persistent headache was severely impairing their time together.

“Stiles…Stiles!” Barked a rough voice, his father was sitting in the living room across from him giving him a look of worry.

“What? What? Sorry, Pop, just zoned out for a sec.”More like blacked out. “What were you saying?” He stammered fighting back the pounding in his head.

“Boy, should I be worried about you?” The former sheriff raised an eyebrow.

“Pfft, no, Dad, I’m fine…fine…you know me, just out there sometimes in the universe chillin’ on Pluto. Haha…ha.” Stiles coughed uneasily standing abruptly from the old couch. “But I better get going, I have some phone calls to make back to home base, check up on my second in command—make sure he hasn’t blown up my office.” He didn’t wait for a response from the dying man but stopped at the door when his Dad stood up and called to him.

“Hey Stiles” His voice strained. “I know I resisted a bit more then I should have to you moving back but…well, it’s good to have you here.”

Stiles’ heart ached against his pounding head in the moment they were sharing “Love you too, Dad.” He smiled, holding back the utter sadness filling his throat.

The young man took the long way home avoiding any more “episodes”. Half way home his baby barked out a clumcump, the engine smooth purr suddenly sounded like a dying cat finishing with a puff of smoke and a backfire of the engine.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He whispered to himself.

The tow truck took an hour to find him and Stiles cringed as the careless driver strapped his baby to the back of the old clunker with no appreciation for its value. When they arrived back at his house the man left him an oversized bill and a half hearted promise that the local mechanic would be out “sometime tomorrow”. Too tired to care about if he actually would be coming out and with a relentless headache, Stiles crashed just inside the doors on the uncomfortable but stylish sofa.

The next morning, the disheveled man woke to a pounding that was not only in his head. Bam, bam, bam, dingggg-dongg, bang, bang, bang! Followed by more banging until Stiles could make it to the vibrating door, now wall, he felt like the whole place would go down like the big bag wolf blowing the little piggies’ house down. Jacket off one arm, belt undone and hanging from his black slacks, hair sticking up in all the wrong places; Stiles pulled the door open abruptly.

“What, yes, what?!” He growled, sleep still showing clearly in his glazed over eyes. The pair staring back at him woke him right up.

“Stiles Stil-“ He slammed the door shut and braced his back against it, the fogged glass door doing little to hide his panic.

No…no, no, no. What? NO. His brain was racing. What is he doing here? Why is he knocking at my door? This is not real life I must still be dreaming. Stiles pinched his arm letting out a little pathetic yelp as another earthquaking knock came from behind him. What the hell am I doing? I’m a grown man. Swift but ungracefully the panicked man did up his belt, fixed his jacket, licked his hands and ran them through his hopeless hair. Taking in a shaky breath, he paused with his hand on the door knob, a complete thought finally making its way in his head. What was Derek Hale doing on his stoop?

Composing himself as best he could, Stiles swung the door back open and froze the large hand in place before the other could try and knock down his new house. “Stiles Stilinski, at your service! What can I do you for--I mean--do for you?” He piped up, his voice breaking ever so slightly at the dark and handsome man whose frown cracked at the hesitation he heard in his voice and the blush appearing on the shorter man’s cheeks and neck. Stiles hadn’t been this nervous since, well, high school.

“Derek Hale, local mechanic, I’m here for the Bel Air.” His rough but delicious voice responded, now splitting into a slight smile at the sight of how disheveled Stiles was, his bluish-green eyes scanning over the long but toned body that was Stiles Stilinski. Something in the way Derek looked at him made him squirm even after all these years.

“I know who you are-we went to school together, I mean, but you probably didn’t noti-talk to me much since you were two years ahead of me that is. RIGHT. Car! Follow me, big guy.” He stammered and brushed past Derek, taking notice to the deep chuckle escaping Derek’s lips. Stiles could feel those menacing eyes scanning his backside so hard he thought his clothes would burn right off.

Rounding the house the Bel Air came into view. “There she is.” He sighed, suddenly saddened by the sight of his out of commission Chevy. As Derek passed, he could feel the rough, grease stained hand graze his ever so slightly. “Oh God,” he breathed, flinching away from the red eyes that once again flashed in his mind as he rubbed at his temple.

Derek, leaning over the engine after trying to start it a couple times, turned to look at him. “Good news is it’s fixable. Bad news, it’s going to take a couple of days. I don’t know what you did but it’s pretty trashed.” He paused and gave Stiles a smile like they’ve known each other for years. “I do remember you by the way, Stiles Stilinski, you’ve grown up…you look good.”

Stiles thought he was going to black out again. “Yeah well, I work out.” He tried to brush off cockily.

Derek laughed leaning against the open car “Right.” He said making Stiles’ body heat up even more.

“So then, I’ll leave you to it.” Stiles coughed, suddenly feeling incredibly self-conscious in the presence of the buff, in-shape man unintentionally posing like a model leaning against his baby, he may have drooled a bit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these are so short, not a lot of time between commissions to write as much as I'd like! Let me know what you think, where you'd like it to go, any ideas I'm open for suggestions.

Stiles couldn’t help but gawk at Derek in his driveway like a stalker through the curtains. A few times Derek had turned towards the house, causing him to duck out of view nearly knocking over a three thousand dollar vase. He couldn’t help it; it was all too surreal for him-Derek leaning over his car, at his house, running those long fingers over his engine. After about twenty minutes of spying, he decided a cold shower and some fresh clothes may be able to cool him off and stop the throbbing coming from parts unknown. 

He was wrong; the cool beads running across his body just enticed his arousal. The shower gave him way too much time to think. Think about all those frustrating years of high school gawking at Derek’s ass as he strutted down the halls or the way he looked driving his hot black Camero, let’s not forget catching him in the change rooms after P.E. fresh from the showers. Stiles pictured that wet body with him inside the shower working his hands down his chest and abs, one of those large hands clasping his-

“Stiles! Hello?!” A familiar voice shouted from the front of his house slowly moving back towards the bedroom. 

Stiles flailed, turning off the shower and cursing himself for leaving the door open, the voice was nearing, he grabbed the towel and threw open the stain glass doors to step out of the shower. Being as this was a larger tub then his last one, and being Stiles, he underestimated how high the bath tub was. The most pathetic scream escaped as his right foot caught the very rim of the tub, instantly knowing he was going down he reached out to grab the counter but the momentum was already there, there was no way to stop this. I’m going to die in a bathroom, this is how I go out, and Derek of all people was going to be the one to find me. 

A split second later it was all over. Stiles, not being completely hopeless, did manage to land his hand on the counter hitting his head on the back of his hand rather than the marble sink slowing him enough to slide down the cabinet underneath and land on his side, legs in the air, half in the tub and face pressed sideways against the wooden doors under the sink. The voice was now in the bedroom, the defeated man had just enough time to grab the towel that had fallen to the floor in his scramble and cover his neater regions.  
As Derek hesitantly neared the bathroom Stiles half wished that the fall would have knocked him out rather than suffer this embarrassment. Smooth move, buddy.

“Stilinski?” Derek growled inching in the door. “Stiles!” He was upon him in a blink of the eye. More gentle than Stiles would have thought his rough hands slid under his legs and neck to turn him diagonally on the bathroom floor not chancing the rink of further injury by lifting him just yet. The shift caused the towel to pull further down just barley leaving anything up to the imagination.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I just had a moment, not use to this house yet-you have rough hands, it feels good on my-oh god-I think I hit my head harder than I thought.” Stiles ran on, Derek’s eye brows shooting up his forehead at the fallen man’s comments as he checked Stiles pupil dilation and felt the sides of his neck for more serious injuries. Stiles head wasn’t busted up for him not to notice Derek’s eyes shift down to the towel and linger for a moment his ears pinking just slightly after he pulled himself back.

“I don’t think you have a concussion” Derek spat avoiding eye contact, opting to stare at Stiles forehead instead. Stiles took the moment to work his way back up and sit on the toilet seat, securing the towel around his hips though he must admit, he thought about playing out his injuries possibly getting Derek to princess carry him to the bed and make him feel better. At this his member twitched, god he hoped Derek didn’t see that little jump in his towel. There was an awkward moment of silence before Stiles instincts kicked in to immediately fill it with nonsense. 

“I’m a complete spaz, thanks for the help though; you’re a real life saver, ever thought of getting into the paramedic field or something like that? I’m sure you’d be great, it seemed like you know what you’re doing, I mean, I’m sure you’re great with your hands all the time-since you were born with them, right? Who can’t use the hands they were born with?”

“Stiles.” Derek said in a low voice immediately ceasing his talking. “I’ll be in the living room.” With that he exited the bathroom leaving Stiles defeated on the toilet. 

He couldn't help but feel a little disappointed he didn't take advantage to Derek’s hands checking him over more. Another twitch below the towel warned him not to think more into it and get dressed quickly.

Derek was standing awkwardly behind the couch, arms crossed, eyebrows together in deep thought when Stiles entered. Water drops still escaping his buzzed hair, down his neck, and sponged up in the collar of his t-shirt. Stiles almost felt bad breaking his concentration with a dry cough.

“So what did you need me for?” Stiles asked, taking pity on the uncomfortable man and getting straight to the point.

Derek jumped and stuttered with his train of thought. “Parts are going to take a while, I already called it in, my guy can’t get them to me till next week.” 

Stiles couldn't help but feel a little disappointment but it was not over his baby. He didn’t let it show that long and plastered a goofy smile on making his way to the front door. “That shouldn't be an issue I have a few backups till then, guess I’ll see you next week sometime.” Derek stepped out and paused debating saying what came next as Stiles flung the door closed one of Derek’s large hands stopped the swing.

“I noticed your collection in there, I hope you don’t mind but I took a look under the hoods, they could use some work too, a few little things here and there. You wouldn’t happen to be looking to hire a personal mechanic?” This caught Stiles off guard. Was Derek actually asking if he could come work for him, like that was even a question. 

As Stiles began “That’d be great” Derek spoke “Part-time of course or not, just asking.” Fumbling over each other’s words.

“That’d be great.” Stiles repeated, his fake goofy smile turning into a real one, Stiles saw another opportunity and took it. “You wouldn’t happen to be handy around the house, I need a few things fixed up, I’m hopeless with repair work and I was thinking of hiring someone to tend to the land”-a lie of course the house was practically brand new and Stiles was fully capable of doing it all himself but it did give him more time with his Dad and more opportunities to run into Derek after his cars had been fixed up. “You could move into the guest house above the garage. I doubt it will ever get any other use. Free of charge, of course, I’ll take care of that.”

He could tell Derek was a bit taken back by the offer. He looked over Stiles debating and Stiles heart jumped when the corners of Derek’s lips turned up into a slight smile. “I have an apartment.” Stiles heart fell just as quickly as it jumped. “But I’ll think about it.” That’s all he needed to get the goofy smile to return. 

“Great! I mean, whatever you decide is just fine.” Derek let out an agreeing grunt and dropped his hand from the door turning to leave, Stiles didn’t close the door right away but took in the view of the older man’s swaying hip, that is until Derek looked back at him and Stiles slammed the door, shaking the glass so hard he thought it might shatter.

What did I just do?


End file.
